Out Of Fear
by LilyGhost
Summary: When an apprehension hits a snag, Steph has an uncharacteristic response and then sees the situation from Ranger's perspective.


**Ranger, Stephanie, and Tank, still belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

"Go ahead and do it," I told the gun-wielding bastard. "It's been a long day ... and one that's sucked since I left home this morning. If you're looking for someone who's going to beg you not to hurt them, or try to make you feel better about your own pathetic life just to keep you from killing them, you pulled a gun on the wrong person."

Said gun was moved from being pointed between my collar bones to creating a dent in my forehead I'll feel if I make it to tomorrow.

"I'm calling the shots, bitch. _You _do what _I _say."

"You don't know me and what I've already lived through. Pull the fucking trigger and be ready to face a first-degree murder prison sentence, or get the hell out of my way. Those are your _only _two options. I'm not afraid to die and I will kill you if I'm given even a brief opportunity to do it. So actually leaving now would be an even better choice."

"You talk a big game, but you'll break ... you all do."

He may believe that, but I sure as hell don't. When he didn't pull the trigger, I knew he was counting on fear to gain my compliance for whatever he planned to do with me when he snuck up behind me outside of a skip's home that I'd been not-so-innocently scoping out. But today, I'm fresh out of fear. I'm frustrated, tired, missing Ranger from the second I kissed him goodbye this morning, and now I'm also really, _really _pissed off. Not a good combination for anyone who was looking to mess with me.

If I had to take a guess, I'd say this is the current boy toy of my FTA. He appears _real _familiar with the layout of the place and knew how to get access to the yard, but there's no mention of anyone other than Clairet Sharmaine and her two sisters in my file on her. I'd say he's another one who's used to breaking the law and apparently 'breaking people'. Like Ranger taught me, I waited for the right time to make my move. The asshole's eyes flicked away from me to scan the area around the fenced-in yard belonging to Clairet, likely checking for possible witnesses. And as if the Rangeman Gods were with me, his weapon also moved about an eighth of an inch away from me.

I can't feel real sorry for Clairet for feeling like she deserves this asshole because now _I'm _stuck with him. And I definitely did not feel sorry at all for the fucker when I rammed the heel of my hand up into his nose. I've heard from the guys that it's a move to only use when you mean business because it could kill someone, but right now ... I hope it _does_.

I'm tired of having to be afraid to do my job solo. I can't help but be irritated all over again that Ranger, or any of his men, can just stare at a person and they'll cuff themselves. And I'm currently angry beyond belief that every time I go anywhere without Ranger or a boss-assigned partner ... it's like a '_come harass me_' flag gets waved above my car and then over me when I leave it. I hate having to feel like I'm on some random knuckle-dragger's menu or to-do list just because I'm in their immediate vicinity, even worse is needing to fend off the predators before I can even get started on catching _my _prey.

I do the same job Ranger and the guys do, yet I get zero of the respect they instantly get just for being imposing men with intimidating stares. Today that injustice finally worked in my favor. In my rage-blind mind, I didn't care what happened to me as long as I got my point across that _I alone _own _my _personal space, _my person_, and any of the actions I take to protect both, and anyone who fucks with any of those will learn fast what a huge mistake they made by approaching me. While my brain cell-deficient attacker lay bleeding and immobile on the ground, I zip-tied him and then called Ranger.

"I ran into a little trouble," I informed my Batman. "The guy's trussed-up and either needs an ambulance or a meat wagon. I'm hoping for the latter. I'm leaving now. I'm not sticking around to see if he lives or dies because it's possible that I may just shoot him point-blank if he is still alive and so much as breathes wrong."

"Are you okay?" He asked me, as he relayed the other crap to someone else.

"Depends on your definition of okay."

"Lock yourself in your car. I'm on my way."

"But I'm heading out ..." I tried to tell him.

"I'll be there before you can even get your vehicle started," he told me, leading me to believe that he'd been close by, not on _my _job ... but on another one not too far away.

Whether that was planned or just a convenient coincidence, I appreciated him being nearby. I walked back to my car, which is technically Ranger's Cayenne that he said to just keep, while repeatedly glancing over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being followed by the jerk or another one just like him. I beeped the Cayenne unlocked and did exactly what Ranger told me to do. Not one to exaggerate his ETA, by the time my locks were reengaged, his truck was already parked on my bumper, casting an ominous shadow over my much smaller vehicle.

Ranger left his driver's door open for Tank to close as his BFF pulled up behind him a beat later. Guess I know who he had been talking to when I was on the phone with him. Either it was a slow workday or everyone at Rangeman is pissed that I'd somehow been accosted. I was still holding my shit together pretty well until the moment Ranger got my door open and touched me.

When he wrapped his hands around my arms and used them to haul me against him, I lost it in epic proportion. My Super-Stephanie persona clearly has a Ranger-shaped Kryptonite weakness. The tears started falling as I whispered '_I'm sorry ... I'm so, so sorry_' over and over again. It took him at least ten minutes to get me to calm down enough to talk to him and start making some kind of sense. Tank had already hauled away the trash I'd bound and left for him in the yard before I could manage to speak beyond apologizing to Ranger.

"There is _nothing _you should feel sorry for, Babe. You didn't do anything wrong."

In my mind, he's wrong there ... _dead wrong _if the asshole with the gun had actually listened to me.

"I told the guy to shoot me," I admitted, ashamed of myself all over again.

I had to tamp down a wave of nausea when I felt Ranger go completely still against me. He's a pretty zen guy who doesn't have a fidget-gene anywhere in his body, but when he goes so still you can't even tell he's breathing, you know to start worrying.

"_Why?_" Was the only word he said.

It was all I needed to feel even worse.

"I got mad," I tried to explain. "And then I got really pissed because people keep underestimating me. I wanted to prove that I'm someone who should be respected and also feared if the need to be comes along."

He kept me safely glued to him, which had my nerves starting to simmer down.

"So you didn't actually want to die?" He asked, measuring out each word as if they physically hurt him to say out loud.

"_NO_. I very much wanted to be alive ... just back at home with you, not here dealing with another dickhead. I'm already relieved and frickin' grateful to be standing here now."

"So I shouldn't be concerned that you have a death wish?" He said, after a pause that raised every hair on my head, still without me knowing what's boiling under his too-calm surface. "Or that you'll push _our _luck or flip-off fate every time you get angry?"

"I swear the only time I'll do something that stupid again is if someone threatens you ... or you do what I just did," I admitted. "I have no intention of leaving you ... emotionally, physically, or via asshole. I just got a little cranky ... and acted without thinking the possible consequences through."

"You will swear on Rex's little rat-life that you will _never _do this or ever say _that _again? I mean it, Babe. I have a rut in my hallway carpet from your angry or worried pacing, and I bet if I looked I could find a chip in the paint on the wall from when you let your displeasure fly after you heard that I told some Stark Street-nobody to come at me ... and I know how to protect myself and disable everybody else. You'd be seeing an entirely different person right now if I didn't feel and see how upset you are about this, but I promise you ... you _will _find yourself handcuffed to me indefinitely if something even close to this happens again. Consider this your warning shot. You _don't _get another one."

I held my hands like I'm swearing to tell the truth in a court of law. "I promise I'll control myself around armed idiots. This won't happen again."

"To ensure that, I will admit to you that _you dying _will _kill me_."

I pulled back to look into his eyes, the only place he can't hide anything from me. I needed to know if he's serious or just seriously trying to scare the shit out of me. Not that I had to do a retinal scan on him. Me being hurt, hurts him. I already know that and I vowed that I'll never let myself forget that fact again.

"You're not allowed to die so I'm not either," I told him. "To prove that I'm serious, and so you'll worry less, consider this an official request that I'm asking 'The Boss' and my boyfriend. I want a permanent partner on the job ... and also after the work-clock stops. I want it to be you for both, but if not ... I'll take one of your guys for FTAs and resign myself to having you only after hours. But I do want to learn how to do what you all can. I'm sick of feeling like jerk-bait just because I have boobs and don't always have a guy handy to threaten other men for me when they don't feel like my gun is enough of a deterrent."

Ranger's nod was barely perceptible, but I felt it as he lowered his head to kiss me. "You need to stay safe and deserve only the best to make certain of it. If I can't make a job, Tank will accompany you. As soon as our days end ... you are _all mine_. I am going to reiterate to my people, who will pass my message along to those on the street who require a reminder, that you are under my protection ... and _you _will also shoot to kill anyone who questions it or dares to bother you. And if you don't kill them, I will."

The conviction behind his comment, or maybe it was what led to him making it, had his many muscles vibrating with a slight tremor that radiated throughout my body. I gripped his biceps to steady us both and went up on my toes to press my lips to his. It was my way of saying thank you for more than his declaration to aid in my independence.

If I _have _to work everyday in a less-than-perfect world, getting through the parts of the job I despise alongside Ranger, and then getting to come home in one piece to him every night, means far more to me than a paycheck. Not only am I glad to not be dead right now, I'm also happy to be me because I know working with Ranger is almost as exhilarating as loving and being loved by him.


End file.
